The All Spark (discontinued to be rewritten)

Echo

That night she had laid sleepless in her bed, unsure of how long it took for the night to finally take her away. But even her dreams echoed with insult. “Weird child” and “Freaky”. They were so little and virtually meaningless, yet they still stained like red wine on a white carpet. If she could hardly handle those comments, what was stopping other people from doing the same in a public school, or an extracurricular activity? Maybe her skin just wasn’t as tough as she thought it was. Maybe her father was right. Perhaps being hidden away was what was best for her.

When he said she would be bored in a regular school, he was right. Cass had graduated far too early for any “normal” kid. John would come home, teach her a chapter from some school textbook, and give her things to work on as he left once again. By the end of the day she would understand the entirety of the subject he was teaching, as though she had been listening to someone telling her the answers throughout the day. He would come back to messily completed worksheets, and when he attempted to make her study it was clear she already knew what he was going to ask. “I’m bored,” she would say, “I already know this”. Even if he had hardly touched the subject by the end of the month, Cass would have seemed like she stole a college textbook and read it front to back four times over. In reality she just knew. If she didn’t know at first she would know it eventually.

A similar thing happened when Ratchet began to teach her. When she started out she had known nothing about Autobots, and now she could name every bit of their anatomy off the top of her head. She could find ways to fix almost anyone and anything, and her small size gave her a great advantage. At some points it felt like she was teaching him, correcting little errors he made in his information here and there. Some days he would only mention the topic and she would already know what to expect from the lesson, even if it was a completely foreign subject.

But that was just normal for Cass. It was never made clear that no one experienced the same thing. No one learned things spontaneously, no one healed their wounds within a week or day, and normally no one was cooped up inside for a majority of their life. Then again hardly anyone worked with aliens for a living. Maybe being surrounded by survivors of thousands of years of war made people paranoid.

Rolling around in your thoughts all night was one sure way to wake up feeling drained. It felt like the aftermath of a large social event (not that she's ever been to one). Cass had never liked coffee, but at the rate she was drinking it that morning she would have an acquired taste for it by the end of the day. It was just a bitter dark drink that sugar hardly fixed, but the warmth was comforting and it helped her feel more awake.

It was a dark morning, and the clouds were thickly soaked with water. One wrong move from a bird and the rain would start pouring. It was a kind of day to stay home and nap, or maybe even read, but alas Cass had to go to work. It was a quiet ride with long sips of bitter bean water, and Cass stared out the window at the fast passing scenery. A part of her feared that one day something would be racing beside them, trying to stop Bumblebee.

For once Nest was completely full. No one was out on a patrol or off on Cybertron per Rodimus’ request. Everyone was relaxing, either sitting against the wall enjoying their time off, or standing together in small groups. The bots from Nest were visiting, which made things seem much more crowded. It was the first time in a while she had seen everyone together like this. Even Evac was among the groups, talking to old Autobots more than he normally would. Cass smiled, seeing that he was starting to open up around the others.

Unfortunately there was no moment to relax and join them, because Ratchet was already beckoning her over to the Medbay. There was never a moment of relaxation for the old medic.

He was holding the tiny bits of scrap that he had been handed the day before. “Where on Earth did these come from?” he asked, his tone very hushed.